


gold wings trembling

by caelitea



Category: Persona 5
Genre: F/M, bc some chapters mention that it's spring or summer or autumn, but it's still implied that goro's in the party, idk why clarifying this vaguely au part is important to me. but anyway, not necessarily chronological but loosely related, vaguely AU bc of timeline reasons, when in game he's only in the party for like two weeks in the winter months
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-22
Updated: 2018-09-21
Packaged: 2018-12-05 12:54:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 12,989
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11578476
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/caelitea/pseuds/caelitea
Summary: Goro Akechi isn't used to gentleness and warmth. Haru Okumura has plenty of both to offer.(He's not sure he likes it.)—HaruGoro drabbles revolving around the theme of "touch."





	1. Team Meeting

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't written an actual fic in over...what, two, three years? Yikes, I'm rusty. Still, I wanted to try writing something for my fav fluffy-haired rarepair, so...here I am! These drabbles are more of an exercise to attempt flaking off that writing rust since I can't seem to write a full-on fic yet, but I hope you enjoy them nonetheless.

“Akechi-kun?”

Haru’s touch startles him, though he manages not to flinch, bringing him out of his thoughts. People don’t usually touch him—there’s no reason to; he isn’t close enough to people physically or emotionally for them to feel comfortable enough to do so.

But today he’s ended up next to Haru Okumura in the booth seat as the Phantom Thieves discuss a trip into Mementos for some smaller changes of heart before they tackle Sae-san’s Palace. It’s a small gesture, her hand on his arm, concern creasing her brows, but it’s something he is very much unused to.

“I’m sorry,” he says politely, angling his body more towards her as he addresses her, trying to move away as discreetly as possible. She draws her hand back now that she has his attention. The rest of the team has dissolved into their usual chaos now that their strategy meeting is over, so his uncommon interaction with the Okumura girl blends into the group’s midst. “Was I daydreaming? That’s unlike me.”

“You’ve been working as hard as the rest of us, if not more,” Haru says soberly, “Are you resting properly?”

He smiles. He can’t tell her he hasn’t rested properly in years, not with nightmares plaguing him, not with how hard he’s being driven, not with his plans so close to fruition. Not with how much effort he has to put into making sure there’s not a single slip in every act he’s put on.

“Of course,” he lies easily, but before he can stop her, she’s pressed a hand to his forehead.

He stiffens this time, lips pinched together before he forces himself to relax. If Haru notices, she doesn’t mention anything.

“Hmmm,” she hums, seeming satisfied with his temperature. “You’re not ill, at least. But please, if you can, get some more rest. Your dark circles are starting to show.”

Goro blinks, taken aback by her observation and genuine interest in his well being. He hasn’t been part of the team long (and he isn’t even really _part_ of them at all), so there’s especially no reason for her to show any concern for him. As of now, he’s just another tool to further the Phantom Thieves’ goals. The other members, though they try not to be too jumpy around him, are certainly wary due to his method of joining the Thieves—he did blackmail them, after all. Though the team treats him well outwardly (though Joker is unreadable, as usual), he knows it’s merely out of courtesy rather than actual affection.

At least, he _thought_ he knew. Now he isn’t so sure, with how _warm_ Haru is being.

He’s not sure he likes it.

“Are they,” he says back rather tonelessly, at a loss for something to say.

Haru smiles at him, with just a trace of wryness on her lips.

“Huh? Akechi’s sick?” Ryuji interrupts, peering over at the two from his stool.

The rest of the Thieves turn to look at Goro, and though he’s used to having eyes on him, he’d like very much for them to turn their gazes elsewhere.

Joker’s gaze is especially piercing, and Goro refuses to meet his eyes.

“No, I’m just advising he gets more rest. The same to you, Yusuke-kun. You shouldn’t stay up all night painting,” Haru admonishes, drawing the attention away from Goro as the artist protests as to why he _must_ stay up to paint.

Goro continues to stare at Haru in mild disbelief, and it isn’t until she looks at him out of the corner of her eye and her mouth quirks up that he turns his attention back to his coffee cup. He takes a sip to distract himself, trying not to feel unsettled by Haru’s touch, twice in one day. She offers it so gently, so easily. He cannot find it in him to be disgusted at the contact, despite how foreign it is to him.  

He doesn’t look at her again, and for the first time thinks Haru Okumura dangerous.


	2. Crowded Street

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Goro runs into Haru amidst a crowded street. They have an outing together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uhhhh this is three times as long as the last chapter...?? That's fine I guess.

He’s in Shibuya to check out the crepe stand today, as magazines have been boasting about its new selection of summer flavors. Goro always makes a point of keeping up with food trends—he doesn’t really need to, but he finds that it helps with maintaining his charismatic detective prince character, and being knowledgeable about such things provides him with more connections than people think.

Plus, as crowded as Shibuya gets, he’s rather fond of the city, because it’s easy to hide amongst all the bodies here. On occasion fans will recognize him, but because people are constantly moving and shifting on the streets, it doesn’t take much effort to lose them. There are also plenty of alleys to slip into, as well.

But today’s one of the particularly busy days, likely due to the influx of new seasonal additions to Central Street’s shops in addition to the crepe stand’s soaring popularity. It’s harder to navigate, and it’s easy to jostle others or be jostled, or both at the same time. As Goro makes his way towards the crepe stand, trying to keep close to the sides of the street, someone crashes into him and causes him to bump into someone else. Quickly, he puts his hand out to stop himself from falling further, inadvertently catching the other person beneath him against the window display of one of the shops.

“Sorry, dude!” the teenagers who’d crashed into him say as they hurry off, more focused on their destination than the people they had almost knocked over.

“I’m terribly sorry, I…” Goro says as he turns to see the other party of the accident, trailing off once he recognizes who he’s caught.

“Oh! Akechi-kun!” Haru Okumura says, eyes wide as she looks up at him.

“Okumura-san,” he returns politely, stepping back to free her. “What a way to run into each other.”

She giggles, bringing a hand up to her cover her mouth. “Indeed! A more exciting way than usual, isn’t it?” She adjusts the strap of her bag to rest on her shoulder better as she tilts her head, politely inquisitive. “Where were you headed off to on such a busy day?”

“Ah, I’ve been hearing many things about the new crepe flavors, so I thought I’d satisfy my curiosity and come to taste one,” he says, smiling. 

“What a coincidence! I was on my way there too,” Haru says, eyes gleaming, “Shall we head there together?”

There isn’t a reason for him to refuse, so they travel the short remainder of distance together. They discuss the new crepe flavors as they wait on line—lilac cream, peaches and cream, hazelnut and honey, tiramisu, strawberry and orange, amongst a few others, debating on which ones to get.

“I definitely want to try the lilac, it isn’t so often you get a floral flavor,” Haru nods, “But the hazelnut and honey one seems good too…”

“Ah, those do sound quite nice…but for me, I think I’d like the tiramisu,” Goro muses, putting a hand up to his chin as he thinks, “it would be interesting to taste the dessert in crepe form. But the peaches and cream doesn’t seem as popular as a choice, so I’d like to try it as well…but the same goes for the lilac flavor you spoke of…”

“Oh, I used to love peaches and cream as a child! And the tiramisu flavor seems to be quite popular, doesn’t it?”

“I suppose the coffee flavor appeals to an older audience in addition to the younger customers. My coworker was speaking highly of the honey and hazelnut as well though, for it not being too sweet either, which I’d also like to try, but…”

“Deciding what to get is proving to be more difficult than anticipated, isn’t it?” Haru says, and Goro agrees absentmindedly.

They both ponder for a while until Haru brightens, clapping her hands together as she turns to face Goro.

“I know! How about we get _all_ of the flavors we mentioned and share?”

Goro blinks at her, perplexed at her suggestion.  

“That way, we can taste a majority of the flavors,” Haru explains, “I do this with Ann-chan and Mako-chan when we go out for dessert—Ann-chan has a _very_ sweet tooth and always has a hard time choosing, so we usually end up just getting a lot and splitting.”

It takes him a prolonged moment before he realizes that she’s waiting for an answer.

“I…that sounds…acceptable,” Goro finally says, but with hesitation in his manner. He’s had meals with Sae-san, but their conversation tends to be about work. Otherwise, it’s rare that Goro eats with anyone else. He’s not entirely sure how to get along with Haru Okumura, but her suggestion is reasonable, and it would be rude to refuse at this point. And it _would_ help him to taste more flavors in one go—and add more information in his arsenal.

She smiles at his choice of words, amused, and steps forward to order the two crepes she initially mentioned as Goro orders the other two. Once they have both dessert boxes in hand, Haru looks around for a place to sit, though with the day’s crowd she knows she won’t find one.

“If you don’t mind a train ride, what do you say to Inokashira Park?” she suggests.

Goro shrugs.

“That sounds fine.”

They ride in companionable silence on the subway, making occasional remarks on the passing scenery or today’s weather. When they finally arrive at the park, Haru guides him to a shaded area with a nice view of the lake, asking him to hold her crepe box as she digs into her bag. She pulls out a square of cloth, then opens it wide, laying it on the ground before taking a seat. Goro raises an eyebrow, but follows her actions and sets the crepe boxes down in the center. Haru opens them both, flattening the boxes and cutting the crepes with the provided plastic knife. She gestures for Goro to take first pick, and he shrugs and takes half of the tiramisu crepe, while Haru takes the other.

“Hmmm…this taste…it’s not quite what I expected,” Goro says thoughtfully as he chews.

“You’re right…the texture of the crepe itself doesn’t quite take the place of the traditional ladyfingers, does it?” Haru replies. “Still, it is quite good.”

Goro smiles, then chuckles when he realizes that he’s permitted himself to do so.

“I thought the same thing,” he says. “Shall we try another?”

They move to the honey and hazelnut, which they find to be a lovely blend of flavor and texture. After this one, Haru digs into her bag again and brings out a thermos of green tea. Goro raises an eyebrow.

“You’re certainly prepared, aren’t you?” he says with a smile, accepting a cup from her.

Haru smiles back.

“I just enjoy taking full advantage my personal outings,” she responds, sipping from her own cup. “I don’t…get them very often, you see.”

“Oh?”

Haru seems to hesitate before replying, looking as if she has already said too much. But Goro wants to know more about the member he knows least about (except, perhaps, the cat) and waits for her to continue instead of providing her a change of topic. She seems to deflate a little before squaring back up, rubbing a finger on the side of her cup absently.

“When father was…still alive…I was only allowed to interact with the people that he deemed appropriate. And after his passing, there are numerous things to deal with in regards to the company, and someone is often trying to find me for one reason or another. But it is more often than not that I cannot answer their questions, or do not have a detailed enough answer when I do…at present, everything is extremely stressful and it is difficult to find solace from it.” She falls quiet for a moment before smiling again, though it is weaker than her usual ones. “So quiet and peaceful outings are something of a treasure at the moment.”

“I’m sorry,” he says, averting his eyes. He’s not sure if it sounds genuine enough, just that it’s the right thing to say. “I interrupted such an outing today then, didn’t I?” Goro continues, looking somewhat apologetically at her.

“Not at all, I was the one who invited you, was I not? The company of friends is always appreciated.”

Goro pauses, his cup halfway to his lips. A friend? So she considers him a friend, his company appreciated. The feeling of being called as such is distinctly odd, and…also painful.

“Besides,” Haru says, quieter this time, “I said I wanted peace and quiet, but I did not mean silence. I’ve…had enough of silence.”

Goro thinks of his empty apartment and thinks he knows what she means.

The two of them are quiet, listening to the birds chatter and the distant voices of other parkgoers.

“By the way,” Goro says eventually, “This is very nice tea. It’s a bit different from standard green tea, isn’t it? Might I ask where you bought it?”

Haru smiles. “I’m glad you like it. It’s my own blend, actually. I can give you a tin of it the next time I see you, if you’d like.”

Goro inclines his head, surprised.

“I would…like that. I didn’t know you blended your own tea.”

Haru holds out the thermos and refills his cup.

“Uh-huh, it’s…a hobby, I suppose? I’ve grown to drink coffee more since we meet at Leblanc, but I suppose I’m more of a tea person in general. I keep about forty types at the house for different times of the day, you see, and I suppose when I was younger my curiosity got the better of me so I played around with the brews. I’ve gotten pretty good at it now, so if it’s tea, I can pair it pretty well, like the way Boss pairs his coffee with curry.”

Goro smiles.

“You’ll be formidable if you can also prepare coffee the way Boss does, if you’re his equivalent with tea,” he says, and Haru laughs, pink dusting her cheeks.

“I still have a lot to learn, but I hope to match Boss’ and Akira-kun’s skill one day,” she says. “Oh, if you have time, you should come join our lessons! Boss says you frequent Leblanc, and though it’s always lovely to be served a cup, it’s fun to know the process and details, too.”

Goro’s throat tightens, just a little. She includes him so easily, almost thoughtlessly, as if he might belong there, learning how to brew coffee with her, the owner of Leblanc, and Joker.

“Perhaps, if I have enough room in my schedule,” he demurs, taking a long drink of tea so that he doesn’t have to speak further.

Haru doesn’t press, and changes the topic to the flora around the park area, which she read about in a magazine, wondering if she might be able to add some of the flowers to her garden. Goro asks questions and learns that she grows vegetables on her school rooftop, and he permits himself a laugh at the thought of her breaking the school rules for such an innocent reason.

The time passes easily, and they decide to leave just before sunset. After they ride the train back to Shibuya, Goro offers to walk Haru home, which she politely declines.

“Scandal, you see,” she says apologetically, and a bit sadly. “I, uhm…the process of negating my marriage with Sugimura-san has been…overshadowed by company matters, at present.”

“Ah,” is all Goro says, and wonders if he might be disappointed that they are unable to continue their discussion on exotic plants. “Then…I wish you a safe journey home.”

“You as well. Thank you for today, I enjoyed our outing together,” Haru says with a warm smile, and walks a few steps before turning back to wave.

Goro waves back slowly, watching her silhouette disappear into the distance.

It _was_ enjoyable, he realizes. Peaceful and relaxing. Usually he’s not one to sit around to relax—he prefers more physical exercises so that he doesn’t have to think. But while conversing with Haru, the dark thoughts were kept at bay just as easily, if not _more_ easily. The thought is surprising. He spent quite a few hours with her today, and not once did he wish he hadn’t accepted her invitation.

Perhaps, then, this is what hanging out with friends was like, why his classmates and people in general want to meet up with others and spend the day together.

He feels strangely refreshed, pleased with today’s events.

He thinks he’ll try not to let this happen again.


	3. Hug

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for all your support and response to this fic!! I really did not expect this to get very much attention at all, since the pairing is so obscure, but I'm glad people are enjoying it thus far!
> 
> I meant to have a regular update schedule, but due to life things that plan's unfortunately out the window. This is the last chapter that I wrote in advance; further chapters will kind of...happen as they will. :')
> 
> Thank you all again for all your comments, kudos, bookmarks, etc! Here's a third addition.
> 
> (Also, a relevant Mementos dialogue[ here.](https://joker-arewethereyet.tumblr.com/post/160168956993/sorry-about-the-driving-noise-in-the-background))

The moment he steps into Leblanc, the downpour starts.

He closes the door quickly, looking back for a moment to observe the sheer force of rain. The clouds had been threatening to break all day—it was lucky that he made it to his destination without being caught within the storm.

“You cut it close, eh?” Sojiro says from behind the counter, a wry smile on his face. “Guess I have two customers for the next couple hours, then.”

As Goro walks to his usual spot, he nods his greeting to the other person sitting at the counter a seat away.

“Hello, Okumura-san,” he says with a smile, which she returns.

“Hello, Akechi-kun,” she replies, “Lucky break out there, huh?”

“Indeed,” he agrees, then notices the little pink box sitting in front of her. “A gift?”

“Of sorts. For everyone, though, not for me,” Haru says sheepishly, opening it and showing him its contents. Inside are cookies shaped like flowers, some of them beautifully decorated with icing. “I was experimenting, and thought I’d bring them for everyone to share, but…”

She looks outside, at the thick sheet of rain obscuring the view.

“It’s probably safer to stay at home today, huh?” Goro finishes her thought for her.

Haru nods.

“Akira-kun and Mona-chan went out to buy some books earlier. Futaba-chan was really excited when I said I brought cookies, but even though she’s just down the street it would probably be better to wait until the rain lets up at least a little bit, if she’s that determined to come by.”

“If she tried right now she’d probably get pummeled and swept away by all that water,” Sojiro chuckles, but then frowns a little as he also gazes outside. “Sheesh, it’s really coming down…business will be slow today. Anyway, coffee for the two of you? And Haru-chan, set aside two of the chocolate and almond ones for me, will you?”

The two confirm their coffee orders, and Haru reaches into the box to pull out the requested cookies and sets them on a napkin. She slides the box towards Goro afterwards with a smile.

“If they’re to your taste, please have some,” she says shyly, “I made a few different kinds and would love feedback, if you’re willing.”

Goro smiles and selects the topmost cookie in the box, which happens to be one beautifully iced with small floral details and lacework. He examines it before looking back at Haru.

“These are…exquisite,” he says, “I’d rather admire it than eat it, to be honest.”

Haru laughs. “The experimenting also included working with royal icing. It’s quite fun, and therapeutic. Well, if the designs aren’t too complex.” She smiles and looks sheepish again. “I confess that is one of the few presentable ones.” 

Goro raises the cookie in a bit of a salute before he takes a bite. It’s pleasantly chewy, and not overly sweet despite the icing. There’s another flavor he can’t quite name—some type of spice, surely—but it’s a nice touch.

“It’s delicious,” he says, after he’s finished chewing and notices Haru’s expectant look.

She smiles, but before she can say anything, Sojiro places their coffees in front of them.

“Should be expected,” Sojiro says, pouring a cup of coffee for himself. “Haru-chan’s gotten pretty good at making coffee and pastries.”

“Oh, no, but I’m nowhere near as good as you or Akira-kun,” she protests, though she flushes a little at the compliment.

Sojiro smiles wryly as he lifts his cup.

“I should hope not, you might run us out of business,” he says, chuckling, but then studies her with a thoughtful expression. He takes a sip of coffee before continuing. “You  know, you don’t have to have the same flavor we do, Haru-chan. You have your own touch, and it’s a good one.”

She ponders his words for a moment before tilting her head.

“I’ll…take some time to think about that a bit more,” she says solemnly, and Sojiro chuckles again.

“Alright, then. I’m gonna do some dishes and prep work in the back; you two enjoy yourselves. Give me a holler if you want more coffee.”

With that, Sojiro plucks the cookies Haru set aside for off the counter and brings them with him into the kitchen.

Haru and Goro glance at each other and smile politely. It’s a little awkward—they don’t talk to each other very often, as they don’t seem to have very much in common or any similar interests to bond over more extensively. But they mutually acknowledge that they aren’t going to force a conversation at the moment; Goro turns his attention to the TV, while Haru reaches into her bag resting on the seat and brings out a notebook, textbook, and pencilcase.

They pass about thirty-five minutes in relative silence, save for the background noise. After a while, Goro glances over at what Haru is doing. She seems focused on taking notes, the occasional small diagram littering the page amongst bullet-points of information. She writes quickly and in very small letters—he can’t see what she’s writing, but she also seems to have an eye for leaving white space amongst the page so that they are less overwhelming to look at later.

He smiles a little; it’s method and style that looks terribly picturesque—one that he isn’t used to seeing, though it’s not as though he’s seen several peoples’ notes before.

He _has_ seen Sae-san’s notes, primarily preliminary notes on cases that she prefers to handwrite because it allows her to visualize things better before she types up a final version on the computer. The pages are crammed full of writing, extra things scribbled in the corners in addition to the text on the lines. The majority of the notes are impeccably neat, though the quality starts slipping a little once Sae-san has been working for extended periods of time. Makoto’s is similar—he’s seen her school notes before, when he’s stopped by the Niijimas’ apartment briefly— though her handwriting is a little more fluid, with a little more bend and looping to her letters.

Goro’s own notes are almost unreadable to anyone else—his handwriting looks neat outwardly, but people have trouble actually reading what he’s written. At present, Sae-san is about the only one who can read his handwriting without trouble. But there’s also the fact that he doesn’t organize things particularly well—he knows his own files and papers, knows what his own notes refer to, even though things written on the same sheet might not correspond to one another. Someone else might find it quite a puzzle to piece the information together, were they to take his notes.

That suits Goro just fine.

He hasn’t noticed he’s staring until Haru lets out a little sigh—not one of frustration, but simply tiredness—before she puts her pen down and traces the rim of her coffee cup with her finger.

“It’s good to take a break every now and then, you know,” Goro comments mildly, feeling compelled to say something. His words are hypocritical, he runs himself to the ground as a lifestyle, but she doesn’t know that.

She turns to give him a half-smile, though it comes out more as a wince.

“It is,” Haru agrees, “But there’s so much I need to learn in as short of a time as possible…”

She trails off, but she doesn’t need to explain much more. The general populace knows the gist of her state right now—with her father dead and her being the largest shareholder of the company, Okumura Foods was facing internal strife in terms of people battling for control of Haru’s power, or attempting to make her give it up.

“That sounds…difficult,” Goro says, knowing it is an understatement.

Haru looks at him, silent for a moment, as if measuring him. He blinks, briefly taken aback by her sudden scrutiny, before Haru glances away. She rests her hands on her lap, lacing her fingers together.

“It is,” she admits, sounding pained. “Akechi-kun, how long have you been working as a detective?”

Goro pauses before answering, thinking back to when he could claim he officially became a detective.

“I’d say about two years or so?”

 “I see. I am sure that you went through your own difficulties during that time, so please forgive me for saying this—but there is a part of me that is…a little envious of  you.”

Goro raises an eyebrow, curious at what she means, and Haru finally meets his eyes.

“You’ve been at your craft for awhile,” she states, “Detective work is about solving cases, yes, but there are other processes involved in that, with the police and recordkeeping and interviewing. It’s more laborious than people know based merely off of watching your interviews, or crime dramas, or suchlike . But during those two years, I’m sure that you grew as a detective and became more comfortable in the role, perhaps learned knew skills to aid you in your work, and you certainly must have honed existing ones. The longer you work at something the better you become, after all.”

She pauses, gritting her teeth for a moment before continuing.

“I did not have that. All those times I was at my father’s side…and I have nothing to show for it. It is true that some of it could be blamed on my father—after all, I was not allowed to attend meetings of worth or do anything directly in relation to the company. Most of the time, I was for image—to talk to his guests, build connections…to be a bridal candidate for sons of his business partners.”

She sounds a little bitter at the last part, but she sighs and shakes her head.

“But I also could have insisted more—either in learning what he did, or asking him to spend less time at work—had I been less eager to please. I…might have been searching for his approval—maintaining my grades, being charming to his guests…accepting Sugimura-san as my betrothed without complaining. But in doing so, I may have only pushed him further into what he became.”

Haru’s eyes are distant and pained, and suddenly, Goro’s throat is dry, his throat tight. Her story is familiar, too familiar, and he balls his hands into fists to hide the fact that they’re trembling.

_(Mothers who aren’t his Mother, fathers who aren’t his Father—what do those words mean, anyway?—eyes, cold and judging, constant and circulating…no one could say he wasn’t smart, not with how quickly he learned to devote himself to an image of himself he created, but intelligence didn’t help cuts or bruises…_

_Learning to breathe quietly, a fear of dark spaces—yet a comfort in them, which act was better? Which would have made them happier? Had it become like this because he was wrong, because he did it all wrong, could he start over—)_

“Akechi-kun!”

Haru’s voice is sharp—not panicked, but geared specifically to get his attention—and snaps him out of the past immediately, but while his mind knows where he is now, his body doesn’t seem to be cooperating.

“I’m sorry?” Goro says, intending for it to be a polite apology for zoning out, but something about the tone must be wrong because Haru’s eyes are even more worried after he speaks. He tries to repeat himself, licking his lips in case their dryness is the reason why his voice isn’t coming out. He fails again, once more, twice more, and he stares at his hands so that he doesn’t have to meet Haru’s gaze.

It takes him a moment to realize that he’s shaking, not just his hands, but his entire body is trembling violently. _Stop,_ he tries to command himself, it’s a sign of weakness, and he knows where weakness gets you—

“Akechi-kun,” Haru says, softer this time, as she slowly slides off of her seat. She takes cautious steps towards him, though he’s closed his eyes and can’t see her anyway.

“Please,” Goro croaks. He can’t bear this public humiliation, even if it’s only the Okumura heir, but suddenly he is unsure of what his own plea means, what it’s for. His breath is coming too fast, or too slow, he can’t tell, only that he needs to _stop, before_ —

“Akechi-kun, will you let me touch you?” Haru asks carefully. Startled, Goro raises his head. She’s standing in front of him now, brown eyes grave, but even with her usual smile gone her manner exudes comfort. It takes him a moment to register what she’s asking. He wants to say no, wants to ask why she would ask such a thing when she barely even knows him. He wants to tell her not to look at him, to leave him be—

“Yes,” he whispers instead, and Haru takes his hands in hers.

The contact is warm, even through his gloves, but she carefully tugs them off and entwines her fingers with his, grip firm. The warmth is almost shocking, but he tightens his own grip as if he can absorb more of her heat that way. 

“I was taught a magic chant for ramen the other day,” Haru says quietly. “It went something like…veggie-garlic-extra-extra…”

She says it very slowly, and repeats it once more before Goro catches onto the pattern. He breathes, in and out, in and out, following the rhythm of her words. She says the silly chant until his breathing becomes a little more even, though he’s still shaking. He lets go of her hands soon after, and attempts to straighten his posture.

“I’m sorry,” he says, clearly this time, “I don’t know what came over me.”

Lies, he knows exactly what happened, though he’d never been in someone else’s presence before when it’d happened. Haru tilts her head, her body language inquisitive, but her eyes aware. Goro’s lips tighten, though he knows he must not make a very convincing figure right now at all.

“Akechi-kun, will you let me do one more thing?” Haru asks, and holds out her arms.

Goro looks confused, and mimics her stance, unsure of what it means.

“I…suppose?” he answers, when she doesn’t move without a response.

_Oh_ , he thinks, when she moves in and wraps her arms around him firmly, chin resting on his shoulder. He hesitates before doing the same, hands hovering over her back for a moment until he finally rests them on her gently, completely out of his element.

“I’m trying to grow camellias this year,” she tells him, “I did a lot of research on what kind of soil they prefer, and I  found that they do best in more acidic soil rich with organic matter. I’ve plenty of compost to help with that, and I could obtain extra fertilizer if necessary as well…”

She continues talking and he relaxes in her hold, all but burying his face in her hair. She smells like jasmine, her sweater and her hair both soft against his cheek. He is half-paying attention to the details of what she’s saying, but he knows she’s only chattering for his sake. He’s stopped trembling, and ultimately feels like he’s returned to a normal—or at least manageable—state after a while. But he gives in to himself and stays in Haru’s embrace just a little bit longer before pulling away.

Haru observes him, and he gives her a weak smile.

“Thank you,” he says, even though saying so means fully acknowledging what just happened. He can’t meet her eyes. “I…”

He wants to make excuses again, but before he can begin doing so, Haru slides a finger under his chin and tilts his head up gently.

“Akechi-kun,” she says, smiling softly, the corners of her eyes turning upwards. “I am your friend, and you may ask me for anything you need.”

He clenches his teeth, unable to find the words to express what he’s feeling. Haru releases him, though she doesn’t go back to her seat yet.

“Would you like another cup of coffee? I was going to ask Boss for another one, myself,” she says, and Goro merely nods, though caffeine might not be the best at the moment.

Haru calls for Sojiro, and when he steps out from the kitchen he doesn’t act like he’s aware anything happened since he left the counter, though Goro knows that he must. The café isn’t that big.

He’s thankful for the owner’s silence.

Goro drinks his second cup of coffee a little too quickly, though he appreciates the scalding heat sliding down his throat and into the pit of his stomach. He takes his leave soon after that, claiming that he has work that he should get back to now that the rain has let up, and Haru and Sojiro give him friendly goodbyes.

Just before he closes the door, her glances at Haru, who meets his gaze evenly. She gives him a hint of a smile and inclines her head, and Goro clicks the door shut.

When he gets back to his apartment, he doesn’t bother turning on the lights as he strips out of his outside clothing and into more comfortable attire and throws himself onto the bed. He pulls his blanket over his hand and curls up in the darkness, thoughts swirling, Haru’s words echoing in his head.

_I am your friend, and you may ask me for anything you need._

If only she knew. She wouldn’t have said such a thing if she knew who he really was, what he’s done.

He curls tighter once he realizes a tear is sliding down his cheek, burying his face into the pillow. _No more weakness_ , he vows, or tries to. He recalls Haru’s warm hands, how he showed a raw part of himself that she accepted without judgment, the easy comfort that she provided him with no strings attached.

A tiny hidden part of him feels relieved, that perhaps showing weakness isn’t so bad—

_No_ , the greater part of himself says, with gritted teeth and nails digging crescents into his palms. Considering that is already a step towards disaster. If he becomes comfortable with help, then that will lead to seeking it, and it will only bring ruin. Really, he’s already halfway there, with being in this position at all.

He needs to remember what he’s here for and fix the grave mistake that he’s made by shutting that tiny voice up.  

Some sleeping pills and a while later, he falls into a fitful sleep, remembering the scent of jasmine, dreaming briefly of flowers.  


	4. Dance

Goro straightens his tie just a little self-consciously as ventures further into the depths of the mansion that the party is being held at. It's like something out of a movie, with a live band and orchestra playing the background music and swathes of impeccably dressed people. The host is some famous curator of arts who’s throwing the party for his fifty-fourth birthday; Goro’s never met the guy and probably never will, but he was invited to the party by his producer, who was invited through some of his connections. It was an exclusive event, one that required invitations to be presented at the door, yet was still quite large-scale, as guests were also given a set number of extra invitations to give those they wanted to bring along.

“It’s bound to be a least a little interesting,” Goro’s producer had said, waggling his eyebrows. His excitement was apparent, as someone who loved a good party and who people liked having at parties—hence his wide and ever-growing social network. “It’ll do you good to lighten up a little, Akechi. You should come; the food and music will be good, if you’re not interested in anything else.” 

Goro had smiled and accepted the embossed invitation without protest. He hadn’t been gung-ho about it like his producer, but he knew what an opportunity it was in various ways.

However, being here was also a bit overwhelming, due to the sheer scale of the event. 

“Drink?” someone nearby asks, and Goro turns to see a waiter offering glasses of pale gold liquid on a platter. “Sparkling cider,” he clarifies, and Goro takes a flute, nodding his thanks.

He puts it to his lips as he walks, scanning the crowd for people he recognizes and who he might expand his network with. To his mild surprise, it’s others who notice him first and engage him. Goro knows that he’s become more popular lately, but he didn’t think that he’d be of active interest in such a high-society party. Granted, there _was_ a mix of people, but even still.

Soon, though, it becomes apparent what the pattern is—his presence is not of interest to the artists and critics, or politicians or CEOs, but to their younger daughters and friends-of-friends, who ask him all manner of intrusive questions about his personal life. The young men within the group range from exceedingly polite to ignorantly rude, and all in all their fascination with Goro is merely for crude, cheap entertainment. These people are neither interesting nor useful to him, and the charade he puts up to converse with them becomes exhausting after a couple hours. He obtains very little information on people he wants to know about, despite the lot of them being quite the gossips.

Goro finally pleads hunger and thirst and extracts himself from the group as quickly as possible before they can protest and trap him again. His excuse isn’t a lie, however; he does visit the refreshments table, filling his plate and grabbing another flute of sparkling cider before ducking into an alcove behind some thick curtains to enjoy his meal alone.

“Oh!”

He startles a young woman in his hurry and he jerks backward, almost spilling his drink as he does so.

“Pardon me, I did not know that this space was already occupied—” he begins, hastily moving to leave, not wanting to be accosted by another dull person, but the woman reaches for him.

“Akechi-kun, wait!” she exclaims as her fingers close around his arm, and Goro stops, recognizing the voice’s owner at the same time. “It’s me! Haru, Haru Okumura.”

Once his eyes adjust to the dimmer lightning, he sees her better. She looks different, her hair straightened and swept to the side with a flower accessory to keep it in place. Her makeup makes her looks a little older, her sleek dark purple high-neck dress and fur stole more sophisticated. He’s surprised to see her here, though it’s not unexpected for her to be attending such an event, given her status.

“Okumura-san,” he greets with a nod of his head, his eyes still widened in surprise. She gestures for him to sit on the velvet sofa and moves her empty glass closer to her on the little table so that he can free his hands. “My apologies for barging into your private space.”

She smiles good-naturedly.

“No, my apologizes for startling you, and for taking away what you were looking for. I presume you’re here for the same thing I am.”

“And what would that be?” Goro asks, just to be cheeky.

“Solitude and quiet, no?”

He smiles to show that she’s correct and she giggles at the harmless nature of the game.  

“If you don’t mind, you’re welcome to stay. I’ll keep to myself. The other spots are across the room, but you’d have to traverse the length to get there, and many of them are um… _occupied_ …by bolder people.”

Goro raises an eyebrow, catching her meaning.

“Surely people would not be so lascivious while in the presence of such a crowd?” He says with mild disbelief.

“Supposedly it is more exciting that way. There is risk of scandal, but not so much that it would cause ruination. At these events, much of what happens at the party stays within the party.” Haru says, her voice light. Her body posture is stiff, and Goro understands that however she learned this must have happened in a distasteful manner.

“Thank you,” Goro says carefully and Haru smiles again. 

“Be warned, it does get a little chilly over here—the reason this spot’s unpopular is because the doors that lead to the balcony are right over there, and a bit of the air seeps through.”

After that, true to her word, she stays silent the entire time he eats his meal. She doesn’t seem to be doing much, just sitting and thinking, though on occasion she peeks out from behind the curtain to observe the party.

Though he _had_ very much wanted to be alone, once he finishes his food, he can’t help but want to question the Okumura girl. She’s probably his best bet in finding out what he wants to.

He fidgets a little, unsure of how to approach the topic since it was already established that they were sharing the same space for the same purpose of quietude.

Haru notices his awkwardness and gives him an amused look.

“You _may_ speak to me, you know,” she says, her eyes full of mirth, “I wouldn’t mind. I suspect your conversation is a bit more worthwhile than the conversations I’ve escaped from.”

“I can only hope,” Goro says, his face a little sheepish at being caught, and Haru chuckles. “I was, actually, hoping to know more about our host and some of the other guests here. My producer invited me and I agreed to come because I thought it would be an…educational experience, but unfortunately I am…a little out of place, I think.”

Haru smiles.

“There is quite a mix of people here tonight,” she says, “So it may be a little overwhelming as a first party to attend of its kind. Should you attend these events more, I suspect that you will form or join smaller groups whose company you enjoy.”

There’s something about the quality of her voice that suggests she’s been unable to do this despite attending several of these functions. Goro doesn’t ask, but he can surmise that her father or fiancé, or both, kept her close by their sides for their own personal purposes, leashing her and thus rendering her unable to socialize more freely. And now, after being orphaned, it would be much harder to find people who were not after her money and status.

“To be honest, I don’t imagine myself attending another party like this,” he says instead with a mild shrug, “My producer is a bit of a free spirit, so this was sort of a rare opportunity in some ways.”

Haru smiles.

“I can be your liaison, if you’d like,” she offers. “Assuming that you would like further opportunities to attend such events at all, after this experience.”

Goro blinks. The Okumura girl doesn’t know what she’s offering, not really. It’s what he was looking to get from the other guests at the party, except now he’s found it somewhere much closer to home. The access that she’s offering to people of influence and information is phenomenal, and it will make Shido’s plans, and his own, much easier.

But the danger is also _because_ she is closer to him than unimportant, mindless party guests; he must make sure he’s not too eager and that certain things will not be traced back to him. Haru Okumura is more perceptive than she lets on—this, he is learning.

He makes a show of considering and hesitating before inclining his head towards her in acknowledgement of the magnitude of her offer.

“That…is generous,” he says, “And I accept, with gratitude. It would broaden my horizons considerably.”

Haru smiles again.

“If it is helpful to you, then consider it done.”

Goro’s expression freezes for a moment. He realizes, suddenly, with some clarity, that she means it. She doesn’t even expect anything in return; she’s offered him something with no strings attached.

For someone like him, it is a rare thing that she’s done.

Taking advantage of others is something that he’s used to, at this point. It is necessary—he is caught in a dangerous web of a game, where the consequences are steep and every move comes with a price or caveat. If something seems harmless, he must make use of it before it becomes otherwise. But here, knowing the Okumura girl has done him a great service and that he will use her goodwill in cruel, sad ways, he might— _almost_ —perhaps—feel bad, just a little.

He doesn’t like this feeling at all.

“Thank you,” he says, his voice catching ever so slightly, but he coughs in attempt to cover it up. He doesn’t offer anything in return, knowing there’s nothing he can give her, not in the same way.

Haru’s eyes crinkle as she beams. It is simple to please her, Goro realizes, and also with a touch of both sadness and irritation. Such a different life that she leads, and such a different person she is. Her springtime name is suitable for a girl like her.

The moment passes, and Haru fulfills his original request in knowing more about their host and various other attendees of tonight’s party. She doesn’t know all of them, and sometimes the ones she does know are not in any great detail. But she is helpful nonetheless, and manages to startle a laugh out of him on occasion with random facts she's discovered about these people.

The two eventually take a break for more food and drink, Haru staying behind to continue claiming the spot as Goro fetches the refreshments.

As he reaches the table, the classical music that has been playing in the background changes—much louder, and more upbeat. It seems geared towards the younger guests in attendance tonight; the song is much more contemporary and invites the crowd to dance.

When he returns to the little alcove, slipping inside quietly, he catches Haru standing at the other end, holding the curtain back a little to see the party. She’s singing along to the song, and swaying gently along to its rhythm. At this point in the party, several guests are drunk, and they also join in the crowd of people who want to dance. It’s slowly becoming a more raucous affair, and Haru laughs softly.

“Would you like to dance?” Goro asks, before he can really think about what he’s saying.

“Oh! Akechi-kun! I apologize, I hadn’t realized you’d returned,” Haru exclaims, walking over and putting her hands to her cheeks to hide the fact that they’re reddening. “I didn’t mean for you to see that, how embarrassing…”

Goro smiles, setting down the food he’s returned with. Haru takes one of the flutes of water and sips it awkwardly for a moment before he continues.

“You didn’t answer my question,” he says pointedly, and Haru makes a squeaky noise. His question can be taken two ways, and Haru mistakes his meaning when she does answer.

“It’s…I never did much at these parties besides what my father told me to,” she says, wringing her hands, “I was required to take ballet as part of my upbringing, but it was also something I quite enjoyed. Like gardening, it’s…good to move your body, and to forget…other things.”

Goro says nothing, though he knows very well how that feels.

“Sugimura…never asked me to dance. It was something…he found…distasteful, regardless of style.” Haru says, her voice very soft, her eyes to the floor. 

It's explanation enough. The two of them are quiet for a moment, and Goro gives her a little time before he speaks again.

“You still have not answered my question,” he says, not unkindly.

Haru’s head snaps up, her eyes wide and her mouth open in a little “o.”

“I—pardon me!” she says, embarrassed at the realization of what he’s asking, “I—oh, dear.”

Goro chuckles.

“Perhaps I should have worded it a bit better, and been clearer. Let me try again.” He clears his throat and bows, holding out his hand. “May I have this dance?”

Haru stares at him just long enough to make him he wonder if he’s committed a faux pas instead before she puts her hand in his.

“You may,” she says, her eyes brimming with gratitude, and Goro wants to look away, to not have such a look directed at him. It's too much, for something he's doing on a mere whim. “Although—admittedly, I…would prefer not to join the crowd…”

She looks hesitant, but Goro is relieved that Haru sharing his feelings. He’s not averse to dancing, despite how rarely he does it, but to do so in such a large crowd—especially a crowd prone to exaggerated gossip—is daunting and uncomfortable.

“It’s a little small to dance in here,” Goro observes, “But if you don’t mind a bit of chill, shall we have our own stage?”

Haru catches onto his meaning and grins.

“The doors are locked,” she says, but her eyes are bright. They aren’t the Phantom Thieves for nothing.

Some careful fiddling and a little added force later, the two of them push their way out onto the balcony, shuddering at the chilly late-autumn air. Haru pulls her stole closer around her shoulders, exhaling in puffs to see the whiteness of the breath. She then turns and holds both her hands, prompting Goro to take them.

“It’s so cold! We best get dancing so we don’t freeze to death,” she says jokingly, but Goro smiles and takes her hands, and they sway to beat of the music that can still be heard loud and clear through the propped-open doors.

It’s awkward for sure; despite the heat of the moment earlier, they’re unsure how to move around each other. The songs remain upbeat, but the tension between the two grows, and Goro knows that it needs to break before they go back inside, dispirited.

He catches her eye, tilts his head, and raises both their hands to prompt her to spin. She raises an eyebrow and does so smoothly. As she takes her last turn, he steps in and catches her, dipping her low like he’s seen on TV.

She looks up at him, surprised, then starts to laugh, warm and full-throated.

He smiles despite himself. 

The dynamic changes after that—Haru takes the rest up as a game, a challenge, and Goro finds it intriguing in its own way. Haru has her ballet background, but Goro also just likes—and is used to—moving, so it becomes a very interesting and varied competition. They try to one-up each other on the flair of their movements while still trying to keep at least a semblance of a partnered dance, and to the rhythm of the song. They forget the chill of the air, the distance between them. They’re a tangle as they perform more complex leg movements, all but trying to trip each other; there’s no pretense of grace or elegance, they move in whatever way they think is right.

“I didn’t know you had this in you, Akechi-kun,” Haru says, as she twirls past him, using her arm to swing into the movement.

“I didn’t know they taught you that in ballet,” Goro returns jokingly, performing a series of steps, but throwing his upper body into the beat as well.

A number of songs later, it’s an instinctive, mutual understanding that this song is the last song, whether or not the music keeps playing. Their eyes meet again, and narrow, and their steps and twirls and arm movements become faster, more extravagant, and they are so caught up in the moment that they crash into each other. Startled and dazed, they reach out to steady themselves, grabbing onto the other as there’s nothing else close at hand.

Breathing hard as they regain their bearings, they stare at each other for a moment before their lips lift up in a tremulous grin. They start laughing, their lungs stinging with both exertion and the cold air.

“Well,” Goro says finally, once he’s caught his breath, “That was certainly something.”

“That certainly was,” Haru says, eyes gleaming. “…Thank you, Akechi-kun.”

He blinks. There it is again, that look of gratitude, but there’s something warming about it this time, like he’s done something right by her.

He’s not sure he likes this feeling, either.

“It was my pleasure,” he says, and finds that it’s not quite a lie.

They’re warm now from the exercise, very warm, but decide to go back inside anyway. The guests have become increasingly drunk and rowdy, and a glance at the clock reveals that it’s getting quite late. Their alcove has remained empty and untouched; besides the cold air keeping others away, the party is winding down, and guests looking for privacy were opting for more comfortable rooms instead.

Haru and Goro avail themselves to the refreshments that Goro had left on the table earlier, sitting in companionable silence. The exertion of their dancing catches up with them after sitting awhile; they feel the tiredness of their bodies, and they both decide to take this as a cue to leave.

“Have a good night, Akechi-kun,” Haru says with a smile at the door, her personal driver waiting for her at the bottom of the steps. She’d offered Goro a ride home, but he politely declined, having much he wanted to think about alone.

“You as well, Okumura-san,” Goro replies, waiting until she gets into the car and her driver pulls away before finding his own ride home.

When he arrives at his empty apartment and falls into bed, he sleeps a sound, dreamless sleep.

During the following week, his producer waves him over to ask about the party, having heard from other guests that Goro had indeed attended and mingled with the crowd for a while before mutual acquaintances lost track of him.

Goro pauses. The soreness of his body is just ebbing, and he smiles.

“It was a pleasant diversion,” he says simply. “It exceeded my expectations, anyway.”

His producer looks amused and seems like he wants to ask more, but leaves it at that. Goro’s manner implies that he won’t answer much more even when pressed, and the producer knows that things that happen at parties stay at the party.

It’s a harmless thing, the fact that he and Haru broke the locks to the balcony and danced there, away from the other tedious guests. There aren’t many harmless things in Goro’s life.

It’s a secret he’ll enjoy keeping.

But the next time he sees Haru and they meet eyes, she smiles knowingly and taps her heels on the ground a few times to an unheard beat. It’s so casual that anyone who might have seen it would just take it as a tick, or her fidgeting. Goro knows better—their challenge from that night isn’t quite over. He raises an eyebrow and Haru tilts her head, and she doesn’t even have to mouth the words to him for him to understand.

 _Your move_.

He straightens his posture and grins.

So he’s gained another rival—albeit a different kind than the ones he’s used to going up against. But he thinks she'll be a rival he’ll be fond of having. _A pleasant diversion_ , he’d said to his producer, but it looks like the diversion will be continuing. Haru Okumura seems determined to keep him on his toes.

He supposes he’d better watch out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. I feel like the dancing might be a bit OOC, but then I also think about about Goro's All-Out-Attack screen. Kid's got flair in him, for sure.
> 
> 2\. This chapter landed me in BTS (the Korean boyband) hell. I just wanted a quick reference to figure out how to word the dance scene, and Kpop groups are full of flair, so I choose BTS since they're a very modern group (as opposed to all the older Kpop bands I know). I typed them into Youtube, clicked on the first song that popped up (DNA), and it's been on repeat since. RIP. (That being said, it's a very fun song, with excellent dancing. I find the little spin thing at 1:13 particularly elegant and pleasant.)
> 
> See you next time!


	5. Sleep

It’s been a long day.

Joker had said he would be pushing them hard today in Mementos when they had their meeting prior to entering, but while none of them had doubted he would keep true to his word, they didn’t quite expect just _how much_ he meant it.

After they conclude the day’s exploration, they all wholly and truly feel the sheer exhaustion—including Joker, though he’s very pleased with everyone’s effort and the progress they have to show for it. 

As they all collapse into the resting station, Joker and Mona both opt for a quick snack and some coffee from the team’s supply to regain energy so that they can operate the Mona-car safely for the return ride. The others pass on the food when offered, having eaten enough during the missions and being too tired to want to consume any more. 

Everyone agrees that all they want to do is go home and rest.

With Joker driving and Oracle slumped against him in the front seat, Skull, Panther, and Queen in the middle seat, and Fox, Crow, and Noir in the back seat, the drive back is unusually quiet save for the soft cries ever-present in Mementos and the purring of Mona’s engine. Joker’s driving is steady, and with the shadows no longer bothering them as they move up the levels, the car keeps an even pace.

It’s unsurprising that many of them doze off—though Futaba had basically been out the moment she settled into her seat, using part of Akira’s thigh as a pillow. The middle row slowly follows: Makoto leans towards the side of the car after fighting droopy eyes for a while, unbothered by the bumps of the Mementos tracks. Ryuji and Ann first have a murmured discussion between them about whose thief outfit is better to sleep on (“You’re not wearing full latex, Ryuji! C’mon, please?”) before adjusting their positions; Ryuji leans back and crosses his arms to fall asleep while Ann takes advantage of his lap.

In the back row, Yusuke is also slumped against the side of the car, his sketchbook open on his lap. The pencil is still secure between his fingers, a few elegant but unidentifiable strokes on the page.

In the end, the only passengers awake are Haru and Goro, though the former’s eyes keep drooping and her head keeps nodding.

Eventually, Goro feels the pressure of Haru’s head against his shoulder, her hair tickling his cheek. He makes some half-hearted attempts to right her position, but she keeps falling back, and though he is far from comfortable with the situation, he allows it. They have all worked too hard today for him not to.

Suppressing a sigh, he leans back and catches Akira’s amused eyes in the rearview mirror.

“You’re not going to sleep?” Akira questions, keeping his voice low.

Goro goes to shrug, but stops himself to avoid disturbing Haru.

“I don’t sleep well outside of my own bed,” He says, and while he isn’t lying, it’s not just that. With this group especially, he does not want to sleep in their midst. It is far too vulnerable a position to be seen in.

Akira nods doesn’t make further conversation which Goro is grateful for. In the front seat, Futaba shifts, and Akira holds out his hand briefly to make sure she doesn’t tumble off the seat as she settles.

Goro turns his attention outside, though there little to see. The patterns and colors on the floor’s walls start blending together after a while, and Goro has to avert his gaze before they start hurting his head. He finds himself partially wishing that the team was awake; the car rides seem shorter when they are bantering, loud and rambunctious though they might be.

Looking around the car again, he thinks that this team is hard to watch sometimes. Despite the enormous differences between them, they are at home and invariably comfortable with each other. They’d sleep in a pile if they could, he thinks, and be okay with that. If anything difficult happened, they’d have each other to lean on.

His heart clenches at the thought of it. How do they do it?

It’s a bond like he’s never seen before, especially not in the environment he grew up in.

Goro has never trusted anyone to even a fraction of the same level. He remembers learning how to be as quiet as possible in his first foster home so as not to incur attention, and consequently, wrath. He remembers having to share a room in another home, waking his “brother” because of his nightmares, and being beaten for it by his “sibling”.

Touch has always been congruent with wounding. Sleep has always been the most dangerous time, when he doesn’t know what is happening in his midst.

He leans his head back to rest on the seat and closes his eyes, massaging his temples. He doesn’t want to think about his past. Not now, not here. He tries to empty his mind by focusing on simpler things. For instance, Haru’s hair, soft as cotton candy on his cheek, the scent of jasmine underneath the familiar tang of blood and sweat. It’s something of a surprise that she fell asleep on him, really—Yusuke hadn’t made the same mistake. Despite the bond of the Phantom Thieves, Goro isn’t one of them, and he knows that Haru Okumura doesn’t trust easily despite her demeanor.

And yet she looks remarkably at peace on his shoulder. It must be the exhaustion, but even so, she hasn’t stirred once.

He yawns.

He’s exhausted as well, and glad for it. It’ll make sleeping without nightmares tonight easier. Eventually, he finds himself thinking of not much at all, listening to the soft rumbling of the car, the gentle breathing of everyone in it.

Goro wakes up when the car begins to halt. He come out of sleep slowly and blearily, until he realizes just where he is and jerks upright. He catches Haru just before she slides ungracefully off his shoulder, remembering that she is there, but he’s jostled her enough that she begins to wake.

“Are we back?” she mumbles, her voice whispery as gossamer. She covers her mouth as she yawns, seeming unaffected by her rude awakening.

“Just arrived,” Goro says, trying to keep his voice calm. His body is afire and his head is spinning—how could he have fallen asleep? How long had he been out—how long was the remainder of the ride?

He’s the first to awake, at least. Besides Haru, no one else has moved—though Goro notices that Yusuke’s sketchbook has closed. Perhaps the artist did it in his sleep, or perhaps he woke briefly at some point. Had he seen?

Goro’s cursing himself for carelessness before Haru touches his wrist lightly.

“I apologize for borrowing your shoulder without permission, Akechi-kun,” she says sheepishly, “I’m afraid I just…passed out.”

He smiles through his nerves.

“With as much work as you did today, I could hardly begrudge you my shoulder if you needed it,” he says. “I was not inconvenienced, don’t worry.”

She smiles back at him.

“Well, thank you, then. If I may ever lend you my own shoulder in return, I will be glad to do so.” She says, then reaches over the seat to shake Makoto’s shoulder, and then Ryuji’s to inform them of their arrival.

The car slowly comes to life again as everyone wakes up and stretches, making various comments as they do so. While the short rest was refreshing, they’re still all of the same opinion about what comes after—going home, bathing, eating, and sleeping again.   

Akira catches Goro’s eye as they’re all pouring out of the car and raises an eyebrow. Goro flushes and scowls, but Akira merely looks curious and not mocking.

Goro can’t wait to leave.

The team thankfully breaks up rather quickly, still too tired to linger and make conversation as they usually do. Anything important will go on the group chat later.

But just before Goro turns to leave, Yusuke catches him. He does it discreetly enough that the others don’t notice and move on, though Goro thinks there isn’t much Akira misses.

“Akechi-san,” Yusuke says, as he lifts up his sketchbook and begins flipping through it. “Forgive me if it was presumptuous, but I could not help myself. The composition was too lovely to pass up. However, as you are part of the study, I feel as though you should have it. I know Haru will not mind despite it also being of her.”

Yusuke rips out a page once he finds the one he is looking for and hands it to Goro.

In the drawing, Goro is asleep, his head resting atop Haru’s, who is sleeping on his shoulder. Their expressions are relaxed and peaceful in rest, the lean of their bodies suggesting trust and partnership. As if they’ve done this before, curl into each other for support. As if they will do it again, without a care for the world watching.

It is a soft portrait, and something in Goro almost— _almost_ —breaks upon seeing it. His likeness is a stranger, but even despite potential artistic liberty, if this is how he might look to someone else...

“You may do what you like with it,” Yusuke continues, closing his sketchbook, “But I thought I would leave it in your hands, in any case.”

“Thank you,” Goro says thickly, and he swallows before he looks up. “It’s…very nice.”

Yusuke looks pleased.

“Is it not? Drawing in Mementos has been _quite_ the experience. A marvelous subject, though the lighting is remarkably poor, which makes it dreadfully hard to actually work in Mementos. Granted, I will keep trying, but short sketches are all I can manage between battles, and—”

“Ah—apologies, but we should catch up with the others,” Goro interrupts, as he has learned to do from the others in the team. The artist doesn’t take offense—Yusuke decrees he is correct and hurries off. Goro puts the picture in his briefcase so that no one else questions it. He wants to laugh, because he is grateful that Yusuke had treated the subject purely in terms of art. Goro doesn’t need _another_ person in the team that can read him uncomfortably well.

When he gets home, he takes a long bath and eats a quick, simple meal. He takes the sketch out as he sits on his bed, staring hard at it for rest of the hour.

He should throw it out, or better yet, burn it. It is too tender an image that he can bear to own. It is too indicative of his weaknesses.

A long while later, he sighs deeply and puts it back in his briefcase, underneath all of his work papers.

It remains there, a not-quite reminder of what could have been.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I live! Sort of, anyway. I've been working on fics a lot more recently, but I'm still an awfully sporadic writer...
> 
> This chapter feels a bit stale, as I was working on it before a myriad of things happened (hard drive dying being one of them) and it was more difficult to pick back up than expected. But alas, have this chapter anyway: Haru & Goro, ft. Yusuke. Though to be honest it feels like Yusuke is actually more of the focus this chapter, and Haru is a bit more background (laughs). 
> 
> Also, just for me, I'd like at least one other chapter that is as short as the first one. It's characteristic of me to write more than initially intended, but even so, how did these become so expanded?! Not much even happens! Ahhh, I digress...
> 
> See you next time!


	6. Push

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An update!! Whoah!!
> 
> I don't think I have very many of these drabbles (am I still allowed to call these that???) left in me, though there are a couple more that I do want to write. Thank you all for your continuing interest in this fic!! I had a few people ask me about the status of Gold Wings Trembling and it made me feel very warm that people still had an eye on this collection, ehe (´∀｀)♡

“Goro! Move!”

The use of his first name startles him, and he doesn’t have time to obey the command before something—no, someone—slams into him, hurtling him out of the way. Haru is suddenly there, her legs planted squarely on the ground and axe held in front of her, bracing for the attack that the Shadow is about to launch.

A hoarse “No—” escapes him, but it is lost in the Cerberus’ howl as the ground shakes and some unseen, physical force slams into Haru. Goro feels the attack in slow motion as the knowledge that she is taking the hit meant for him cements itself.

Her axe shatters, and the impact throws her back as she collapses onto the ground, lying unnervingly still.

“Panther, Mona! I need you on healing duty! Skull, backup!” Akira barks, rushing forward with his dagger at the ready. “Fox, Queen, I need you at the forefront! Crow—hold onto Noir for a moment. Oracle, give me what analytics you have.”

As Futaba answers, Goro props Haru up in his arms. He knows Akira meant for him to defend Haru against any attacks until Ann and Morgana could reach them, but it feels…disrespectful to leave her in an unceremonious heap while she’s unconscious. And—he wants to know that she is breathing. She must be—and is—of course; the Phantom Thieves have endured worse, and none of them would be as calm, if worried, had they perceived Haru’s life in true danger.

Regardless, something in him beats an uneasy, unsettled rhythm, his fingers trembling against her body. 

The other Shadows seem to know that one of them is out of commission—they begin to swarm, and though Goro is weakened himself, he has Robin Hood’s name on his lips and his saber at the ready.

“Now, Robin!” he calls, when the Shadows get too close, his voice hoarse and a little too high-pitched. He swallows the budding panic and Megidola rains down, scattering the Shadows, and he keeps his eyes on their forms as they regroup.

Thankfully, Ann and Morgana reach them before Goro has to consider how to ration the last of his energy.

“Dance, Carmen!” Ann commands with a crack of her whip, fire lighting up the area. The Shadows topple, their weakness exploited, the majority of them melting away. Morgana takes care of the remaining stragglers with a blast of wind, cutting them to pieces.

The immediate vicinity thus cleared, Ann and Morgana kneel down and examine their unconscious friend. Ann nods, satisfied that there isn’t any lasting damage, patting Haru’s cheek gently.

“Alright, Noir, time to wake up,” she murmurs, and Carmen appears again, this time to cast a healing spell.

It’s a minute before Haru’s eyes start fluttering and she rouses. She blinks slowly, then seems to focus as her vision clears.

“Goodness,” she says, as she recalls what happened. “Goodness,” she repeats, when she realizes she is being cradled by Goro as Ann and Morgana peer at her. She sits up gingerly, stretching to test her limbs.  

Ann smiles.

“Had us worried for a minute there,” she says. She turns, cupping her hands around her mouth as she calls to the rest of their teammates. “Noir’s up! No problems here!”

Her message might have gotten lost in the din of ongoing battle, but Futaba makes sure that it’s relayed.

“They’re just about finished,” Futaba says, as Necronomicon disperses and she lands next to them. “You can sit tight.”

True to her words, the Cerberus and its allies collapse and fade away after one last shower of ice from Yusuke. The Thieves regroup, and Haru smiles at their clamoring around her and assures them that she’s fine, if a little sore.

“Unfortunate that my weapon shattered, however,” she frowns, “I quite liked that model.”

“Looks like you’re due for an upgrade,” Akira says with an apologetic smile. “Iwai-san should have some new things in by now, but if you really liked that one, we can see if he has another.”

“No, what is done is done,” Haru sighs, but smiles. “And I should very much like to see the other options Iwai-san can provide.”

Goro says nothing as the conversation continues. He wouldn’t be able to find anything to say, anyway. It’s all too—normal. What they’re doing is dangerous, always is and has been, but Haru put herself in particular danger because she defended him. Why? And why had none of the Thieves taken issue with that? None of them had said anything in regards to what Haru had done, none of them had turned accusing eyes on him. Before, Ryuji and Ann had checked in with him (“You good?”/”You okay?”), Yusuke, Makoto, and Futaba had confirmed his well-being silently, and Akira had inquired with a particular look, as was his usual style.

They shouldn’t have been asking after him. Why were they acting as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened?

As the group begins to walks away, Morgana already having transformed into a car, Goro reaches out and catches Haru by the wrist. She looks surprised, but waits for him to speak. Too many things are caught in his throat, and he looks at her with what is probably desperation before something finally escapes him.

“You didn’t have to do that,” he blurts. “Back there.”

Haru smiles and gives a soft laugh.

“If we did things only out of necessity, it wouldn’t be much of a life, Crow,” she says gently.

“Still,” he protests, his thoughts still a jumble. “You shouldn’t have done it. It wasn’t…necessary.”

Haru tilts her head and scrutinizes him. He realizes he’s still holding her wrist as she does so and lets go, but at immediately after Haru reaches over and cups his face with both hands. Goro flinches at the contact, but her touch is gentle and warm, and he forces himself to be still.

“Truth be told,” she begins, “I did it because I didn’t like the look in your eyes, in that moment. Maybe it was a selfish act, forgive me.”

Goro blinks at her, confused, and the question escapes him before he can consider whether or not he wants to ask it.

“What look?”

She merely beams at him, releasing his face.

“I much prefer your expression now, even if it’s because I’m baffling you, poor thing. Come now, before they leave us behind.”

The Phantom Thieves would do no such thing, of course, but she hasn’t answered his question, and doesn’t seem like she will. Goro sighs, shaking his head, and trails after her back to the Mona-car. To their credit, the rest of the team says nothing about the exchange, though surely they must have seen. The drive back is a regular, boisterous affair. Bottled drinks and cups of coffee from Akira’s thermos are passed around, as well as some snacks.

In the normalcy of it all, it would be easy enough to forget about what had happened, and why it bothers him so. But Goro isn’t one to do such a thing, even if he isn’t any closer to getting answers. He’s a detective, after all. He might have to petition Akira for a proper response, but he really doesn’t want to resort to doing so. He keeps glancing at Haru, who notices, but she merely smiles at him if they make eye contact.

Frustration begins gnawing at him, which partially gives way to anger. By the time they arrive back at the entrance and everyone separates for the evening, Goro is so caught up in his own thoughts that he almost misses Akira holding Haru back for a moment. Goro continues to walk, but then rounds a corner and doubles back, hiding behind a sign to listen in, peeking out just enough to see a sliver of Haru’s face and Akira’s back.

“Poor guy was fidgeting the whole time and then went total thinking mode,” Akira says, with a slight grin. “If you don’t explain something to him he might combust.”

Haru laughs softly, and there’s a brief moment of silence before she speaks.

“I…don’t know what to explain,” she confesses, “It might have truly been a selfish thing. I told him that I didn’t like the look in his eyes.”

Something in Akira’s face must have changed, because Haru looks at him sharply.

“You know what I mean,” she says, and Akira rubs the back of his neck.

“I think so,” he says, and Haru sighs, the sound a mix of relief and sadness.

“I think—I think he’s gotten at least a little bit more comfortable here, with us,” Haru says. “And I’d like that to continue. We don’t know very much about him, but sometimes…oh, Akira-kun, I just didn’t like how prepared he was to take that hit. He saw it coming and he went totally blank, and…” she wrings her hands, her tone distressed. “Maybe I’m just projecting, but he looked how I felt when Sugimura used to…when I was still engaged to Sugimura.”

There’s a silence, and Goro feels his blood starting to run cold.

Akira puts a hand on her head.

“Haru,” he says, and she sighs at the warning in his tone.

“I know,” she says. “I do. But sometimes I can’t help it. I’d do it again if it means he doesn’t have to look like that.”

Akira ruffles her hair and she lets him do it without protest, smoothing down the locks once he’s done with a faint smile.

“I get it,” Akira says softly. “I do.”

“I know you do,” Haru replies, reaching up to ruffle his hair as well.

Akira smiles at her and doesn’t bother fixing his hair. The two leave the conversation like that, and Goro hurries away before they can catch him eavesdropping.

So he has…something of an answer. They’re too concerned about him for their own good. And Haru Okumura—she can tell too much, and he doesn’t like it.

But what’s done is done. He’ll have to watch himself more than ever before, to make sure that this doesn’t happen again. But—a part of him wonders how, if they pick up on things that he himself doesn’t realize he’s doing. Perhaps he’ll have to try harder at acting, fill in every possible crack of his crafted façade. And yet…another part of him wonders if he should let them find what they will—not easily, no, but whatever they do—and that way, maybe he will get answers to something he didn’t know he wanted answers to.

He curses the Phantom Thieves, and curses Noir in particular for her slow theft of his resolve. 


End file.
